


I Woke Up Before You Could

by thephilosophah



Series: Blackwatch Week 2017 [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Injury, Limb loss, Major Character Injury, discussion of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 17:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11628552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephilosophah/pseuds/thephilosophah
Summary: An injury, a bad dream, and a talk with someone who has it worse.(Blackwatch Week, day 6: Lifesaver/Recovery)





	I Woke Up Before You Could

**Author's Note:**

> ft. more of my headcanon about mccree's hand! i mean, he's always worn gloves, how could you tell what's under there?

His hand is cut diagonally across the palm, from the base of his thumb to that of his pinkie.

Jesse eyes his stump with a sour expression. His fingers are all gone, his thumb. Half his palm - _half his palm._ His wrist is fine, but its every movement jostles his stump and it hurts.

They're building him a prosthetic at this very moment, but - his hand is gone.

And it's not even - fuck - the cut across his palm is even, straight, clean, a medical amputation so he can keep his wrist. But his thumb - the jagged, wild open wound that starts where his thumb was and climbs halfway up his forearm - it's painful to even look at.

And it's not like anyone can even say anything about it. They can't offer him condolences, he did this himself. They can yell at him to be more careful, nobody's dumb enough to do this when they have other choices.

And that hurts too, that they trust his judgement that much.

And still they can't say anything, because they can't congratulate him for dismembering himself.

He wants to scream.

He crosses his arms on the table, nestles his head in there, and falls asleep.

In his dream, Jesse is back there, shooting at his own hand to get out of the handcuffs, but in front of him if Genji. He also has a gun in his hand, and Jesse hates that he can tell it's loaded.

Genji stares at him, unblinking, unbreathing, and puts the barrel of the gun in his own mouth, and Jesse wakes up shaking. He lifts his head up, holds it up with his hand.

Genji is on the other side of the table.

His mask is on.

Jesse can't remember what he thought Genji's eyes would look like.

"Are you okay?" Genji asks.

"Just a nightmare. Kind of... memory mix, I guess."

Genji gestures his head down, his version of a downwards glance. "How much did you mix your memory?"

"I saw this", Jesse says, waves his stump around, frowns when the movement spikes up pain, "but you were there. I was shooting my hand, and you went to shoot yourself."

"My hand?"

"No, uh... you put your gun in your mouth."

Genji stays quiet for a while. His lights are dim, but now they turn off completely. "Do you think it was because your brain now associates loss with guns?"

Jesse thinks. "No, can't be. Guns still feel like a tool to me."

Genji leaves a shorter pause, this time. "Do you think it's because I seem the type?"

Jesse startles. "I - I don't know. I don't know what the type looks like. I don't really - I've never lived with the certainty that I'd survive. My idea of mortality is - kinda fudged, maybe, by a survivalist's standards."

Genji's lights turn back on. "You think I'm a survivalist?"

"Did you _see yourself_ when you first got here? _Anyone_ would've died from that. But you didn't, you stubborn motherfucker, you."

Genji sighs. "... I think about it, sometimes. What death would feel like. And I think it'd be pretty close to what that was like."

Jesse looks down. The paneling of Genji's left bicep is displaced - the front of it hangs too far off the muscle underneath. Truth be told, Jesse isn't too sure whether that's flesh or synthetic fiber.

"Did I do it?"

"Huh?"

"In your dream. Did I pull the trigger?"

Jesse stares. "I woke up before you had the chance."

Genji's shoulders relax. "Thank you."

Jesse blinks, sighs. "No problem, man."

 


End file.
